


Diaries of the Hunter

by Deviant_Donghun



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Book Series: The Kane Chronicles, Buzzfeed Unsolved References, Crack?, F/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Songfic, supernatural imagines
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-06
Updated: 2019-10-10
Packaged: 2020-04-11 23:24:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 19,057
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19119838
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Deviant_Donghun/pseuds/Deviant_Donghun
Summary: Supernatural Imagines. Requests open. No smut.





	1. Youngblood

**Author's Note:**

> This is a songfic that has been rattling around in my brain for a while now. It's based off of the song Youngblood by 5 Seconds of Summer. This is what happens when you are up at midnight after listening to the same song on repeat all day.

He hadn't watched as she walked out the door. He just couldn't. Even as she left his life, this time for good, he knew he had made the wrong choice. Even so, he let her go. He watched her walk out that door and some part of him, deep down, was glad she was gone. He knew he was going to miss her terribly but he stil let her go because it meant that she was out of danger of whatever thing might have followed him home. Even as she broke his heart walking out that door, he knew she would be fine.

Yet here he was, remembering her words. He could hear them clear as day: "I'll love you to the day I die." He had given her everything, believing that she meant them. He had reciprocated the words, almost believing that they had less of an impact for him as he could die any day. He swallowed the last sip of his beer and walked out the door, Sam on his heels.

He was interviewing a witness to a possible werewolf attack, normally an open and shut case for the boys, when a face out of the corner of his eye caught his attention. He swiveled his head, his voice trailing off mid-sentence. Catching a better glimpse of the woman's face, his breath caught in his throat. For a second there, he had thought he had seen her but it turned out to be a different person with the exact same shade of hair.

Lying in bed, Dean rolled over, almost expecting another body to be there but finding cold and empty sheets instead. He sighed and turned onto his back again. He would give almost anything to have her back in his life again, even if it was just for a few hours. Instead, he was met with an empty hole where she should have been.

Another month went on with his moping and Sam was starting to get tired of him. Dean saw it in the little things, the way he would sigh or tap his foot when he had go pull Dean out of his thoughts, how he would roll his eyes if didn't answer imeadiately. They went to another town, staying in another motel, working another case. They went to a witness's house, hoping to get any information possible on the witch in the area. As Sam knocked on the door, a female voice spoke.

"I've got it, babe." The door opened to the last face Dean expected to see here: her's.

"So you've moved on already, I see." Dean muttered. Sam elbowed him in the ribs for that. They stayed mainly professional, if strained, during the questioning.

She only looked at Sam as she answered. They turned to go but Dean's eyes stayed fixed on her until she was back inside and out of sight.

The next time he saw her, he was drunk. He had gone to the local bar, gotten wasted, and had the bright idea to call her. He begged her to meet him, if nothing else than to just get it over with. So, they met.

"Why did you call me here, Dean?"

"Now I'm Dean. I used to be all kinds of pet names, now I'm just Dean."

"Can we just get this over with?"

"Why did you leave me? Was I not good enough for you? Did I not give you enough attention, care, _love_?"

"You, give me things? You just kept pushing me away! You kept pushing, and pushing, and pushing, until I finally had enough and I pulled away."

"I gave you as much as I could! I gave and I gave and I gave, and all you did was take and take and take! I always tried to tend your wounds first or, better yet, make sure you stayed out of the fighting! I made sure you were fed before feeding myself! I always tried to put you first and you ran out on me with not so much as a goodbye!"

"What did you expect me to do, Dean? Tell you I was leaving? We both know this was never supposed to go past the one night stand. We both know I wasn't your first and I won't be your last."

"And it's back to this. It's always the one night stand. You always try to make me look like a playboy, well, you've slept around too. Don't deny it now!"

"Takes one to know one, Dean."

"Yeah, you beat me at my own damn game! Is that what you want to hear?! Is it?! That you've reduced me to a dead man walking, my every waking thought on how you walked out! All you had to do was talk to me! You just had to tell me you couldn't take it anymore!"

"What would you have done then, huh, Dean? You would have flown into a rage or an emotional fit and tried to convince me to stay, wouldn't you?"

"Anyone would when they find out that the love of their life was walking out of it! Any self-respecting person would have!"

"What do you want me to say, Dean? That I want you back in my life? That I need you back in my life?"

Their voices had previously been raised in the empty parking lot but now Dean's dropped down to almost a whisper. "You may not have needed it, but I do. I need it all of the time, from the moment you walked out of it, I've needed you back into it."

"Well, I don't need you in _mine_." With that, she turned and walked away, leaving him alone in the empty lot.


	2. I'm the One Who Gripped You Tight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Castiel's view of what happened between seasons 3 and 4. (Yes, the last dialogue is a direct copy from S4,Ep1. It took forever to write out. They talk fast and I type slow.) I heard in an interview at one point that Misha actually reads fanfiction (whether he just threatened us with that or it was actually true, I don't know. This man is a huge troll so I wouldn't put it past him), so, Mr. Collins, if you are reading this, I'm sorry.

Castiel looked at the small band of angels standing around him. He knew the plan by heart, memorized it as soon as he had been given it. He looked into the eyes of his brothers and sisters, each of them willing to die today. He knew it was a possibility, but he didn't dwell on it. It was a simple mission on the outside, get in and get out, but he knew that one wrong move could send the plan tumbling down around them. The others were there to help in any way they could but Castiel had the main job. He was the one getting the precious cargo and transporting it out. He nodded, satisfied that they were ready.

One by one, they went in, Castiel last. The others cleared the way as Castiel shot straight for his target. Getting there, he landed next to a man. The man stabbed a soul in the eye, grinning, on the verge of laughing. "Dean." Castiel spoke.

The man turned his head. "You bringin' me another one? I'm almost done with this one."

"No. I'm here to save you."

Now, he turned to face the angel fully. His soul, which was all that Castiel could see, was grey, black tinting the edges, with a pure white dot in the very center. There was some good left in this husk of a man. He may have been here for forty years but there was still some good left in him. He wasn't completely broken. "Do I look like I want to be saved?"

Castiel tilted his head. "Does it look like I asked?"

"Go away. I don't need you." The man turned back to the soul in front of him.

One of Castiel's brothers landed next to him. "We must go soon. We cannot keep them at bay much longer."

"How many?"

"We have already lost half the group. If we do not pull out soon, we may never be able to. The demons are much stronger when they have the home territory."

Castiel nodded. He aproached Dean from behind, just as the man was raising his arm, ready to plunge whatever object he was holding into the chest of the soul kneeling and bound before him. Castiel wrapped his left arm around his waist, bringing it up to grip his shoulder. His right hand gripped his angel blade as he pushed off and flew, trying to make it to the exit. He could hear the sounds of his siblings retreating behind him.

Dean was struggling so much, Castiel almost dropped him as he burst out. He still had enough breath to cry, as loud as he could, "DEAN WINCHESTER IS SAVED!" Emotion gripped his voice, almost drowning the words in the joy and elation he felt at having completed his first mission. Since the beginning of the world, Castiel had sat on the sidelines, never being given a mission. Now, he did his first one to the best of his ability.

As he passed Dean's grave, he gently dropped him back into his body, wishing he could help the man a bit more by at least making sure his coffin was on top of the soil. He couldn't, even though he wanted to, he had already spent too much time on earth without a host.

He returned to heaven but monitored Dean's progress. He saw the man claw his way out of the coffin, out of the dirt, take his first breath in four months, saw him walk down the road, loot the gas station. He tried to talk to him, to tell him that he didn't need any of that, that he was going to be home with his family soon, but Dean didn't understand any of it, just clutched his ears in pain. So, Castiel kept watching. 

He kept watching as Dean made his way to Bobby, who did every test imaginable on him, who embraced him with every ounce of his strength when he was satisfied Dean was Dean. He watched as Dean and Bobby met up with Sam, who went through the same tests, who almost cried as he realized that his older brother was alive and safe, who hugged him like he never wanted to let him go. He tried to warn Dean about Ruby, to tell him about Sam and the demon blood, but Dean couldn't hear him.

He saw the three men go to a medium, hoping to contact him. He warned her. He warned her that she would be unable to see him in his angelic form, not while she was still living. She persisted anyways, so he tried to only show her a glimpse of one of his eyes, but she wasn't even strong enough for that. He felt bad that her eyes were burned out but there was nothing he could do about it. He gave her his name and how to summon him but that was the most he could do.

He finally convinced Jimmy Novak to allow him to use his form at the same time that Dean summoned him. He tried to fly there but misjudged the distance and landed on the roof instead. The sheets of metal made more noise than he wanted as he rolled off and approached the door. He entered, each of the lights popping as he got too close to them. He was still oozing spiritual energy but didn't have time to try to contain it all. Dean and Bobby tried ever test they could as he advanced down the length of the barn. Finally, he stood within comfortable speaking distance and stopped.

Dean scowled at him. "Who are you?"

"I'm the one who gripped you tight and raised you from perdition."

"Yeah, thanks for that." He sneered out before stabbing him in the shoulder.

Castiel looked straight into Dean's eyes as he pulled the knife out. A tense second passed before Bobby tried to club him with the end of the shotgun he was still holding. Castiel grabbed it, turned to him, and pressed two fingers to the man's forehead, causing him to pass out. Looking back at

Dean he said, "We need to talk, Dean. Alone."

Dean looked fazed but nevertheless checked on Bobby to make sure he was fine before once again turning to look at Castiel, who was flipling through one of their books. "Your friend's alive."

"Who are you?" Dean growled.

"Castiel." He didn't look up from the page in his hands.

"Yeah, I figured that much, I mean what are you?"

Castiel looked at him. "I'm an angel of the lord."

"Get the hell out of here," Dean stood, "there's no such thing."

"This is your problem, Dean. You have no faith." He allowed his wings to spread behind him, black shadows on the wall covered in sigils that did nothing to him.

"Some angel you are." Dean countered. "You burned out that poor woman's eyes."

Castiel looked down, still regretful of that accident. "I warned her not to spy on my true form. It can be . . . overwhelming to humans. And so can my real voice, but you already knew that."

"You mean the gas station and the motel? That was you talking? Buddy, next time lower the volume."

Castiel shook his head slightly. "It was my mistake. Certain people, special people, can perceive my true visage. I thought you would be one of them. I was wrong."

"And what visage are you in now, huh? What holy tax accountant?"

Castiel looked down at himself. "This-this is, a vessel."

"You're possessing some poor bastard?"

"He's a devout man, he actualy prayed for this."

"Look, pal, I'm not buying what you're selling, so who are you really?"

Castiel was shocked but thought that he should have expected this. "I told you."

Dean _tsk_ ed. "Right. And why would an angel, rescue me from hell?"

Castiel stepped forward as he spoke. "Good things _do_ happen, Dean."

"Not in my experience."

"What's the matter? You don't think you deserve to be saved?"

He scoffed. "Why'd you do it?"

"Because God commanded it. Because we have work for you."

Castiel never imagined his life to turn out this way. He never thought that this tense conversation, would lead to where it did. He hadn't dare dream that there could be somthing out there like this just waiting for him. That this man and his brother would become closer friends, brothers even, than his own angelic siblings were. He would have never guessed that they would mean more to him than anything ever had in the years he'd been alive. So, even with all the hardships they faced together and everything that happened, was it really a surprise that he kept coming back to them, his family?


	3. Supernatural-Unsolved

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Buzzfeed Unsolved meets Supernatural (I tried.)

Sam sighed. "I think we've got another case."

Dean looked over. "You say it like it's a bad thing."

Sam shook his head. "I don't know, I guess I'm just a bit tired of it all. Yeah, it's our job, but can't we get a break for a few days. I'm not even asking for a week, just a day or two."

Dean nodded, standing and moving to look over his shoulder. "We do this last case, then we'll take a break. Come on, what've we got this time?"

"People are reporting heightened activity at the Old Alton Bridge."

"Heightened activity? You tellin' me there's been activity there before?"

"The bridge has a more common name: Goatman's Bridge. It's said that a demonic entity, probably a spirit, inhabits the bridge and surrounding woods."

"Alright. Let's go. You can fill me in along the way."

"Sounds good to me." Sam grabbed his jacket and the duffle bag at his feet and followed his brother out of the bunker. They threw their bags in the back, both climbing in the front.

"So, Goatman, huh?"

"Yeah. People have reported hearing hooves follow them across the bridge, as if they were being chased off. Others have told of being thrown off. Some say that you can sommon him if you knock three times on the bridge."

"And the woods?"

"They report seeing a half-man, half-goat figure with 'empty glowing yellow eyes', and feelings of rage and murderous intent. One paranormal investigator even reported having dreams and visions of killing the other investors with her."

"I'm convinced. Do we know how to kill it?"

"Nobody has tried, that I know of. From all accounts, it seems to be some sort of spirit or something from mythology. From what we've seen with myths, the usual stuff should work. Salt, iron, even a banishing sigil might work. I don't think we'll know until we get there and see it."  
When they got there, the bridge was deserted, no one around for miles. Sam looked at his laptop screen. "This site says that the bridge is only suitable for pedestrian traffic, not for vehicles."

"Even if it were, I don't want to put Baby on that death trap."

"Do we want to park off to the side in the woods a bit? With how many reports are here, there's bound to be some people coming by soon."

"Good call." Dean pulled into the woods just enough that the trunk wouldn't stick out too much.

Just as he turned the engine off, another one was heard from the way they just came. The brothers looked at each other before getting out. Dean opened the trunk and both pulled out matching duffles, each containing their standard hunting equipment. They walked a little ways into the woods as the rumble of the other engine got closer.

The hunt went smoothly. Or, as smooth as any hunt can go for the Winchesters. They ran into the Goatman pretty early on, Dean taking a shot at it with the salt-filled shotgun. The Goatman screamed as it vanished. The Winchesters heard voices coming from the bridge, probably the people the other car belonged to. It sounded like to two males, one hesitant, the other bold. The voices were raised a few times but generally kept to themselves.

The Goatman appeared again and Sam got the shot this time, the creature once again screaming as it disappeared. This time, the voices were startled by the scream. They seemed to be closer, coming from the woods instead of the bridge now. Sam and Dean moved away from the voices, having a hard time hunting with civilians near.

Dean shook his head. "Fucking civilians." He muttered.

Sam echoed the sentiment silently. The Goatman came another time, another direct hit for Dean, another scream. This time, the civilians were close enough to be heard. "Did you hear that?!" The hesitant, frightened voice said.

"Nope. I didn't hear anything." The other answered.

Dean growled under his breath, grinding his teeth. "These idiots are worse than those stupid Ghostchasers-"

"Ghostfacers."

"-Whatever they're called. I don't care, I don't like them any more than these."

"I know, Dean, we just have to deal with this for another hour or so."

As they spoke, the Goatman came back. Sam managed to raise his pistol, getting off a shot, the iron bullet finding it's mark in the creatures forehead. At the same time, Dean managed to trip over a root. He cursed, not watching his volume as he landed, his ankle twisted.

Sam turned from his kill to look at his brother. "You alright, Dean?" He asked as he helped him to his feet.

"I will be." He gritted his teeth and hobbled over to the Goatman. "Should we burn it? Just to be sure."

"Probably best. You wanna do the honors?"

"Sure." Dean got out his lighter and bent down, lighting the creature on fire. When he saw Sam's look of confusion, he smiled. "No use in losing the lighter. We're running a bit low on 'em."

Sam nodded, putting his arm around his brother and allowing the hunter to lean on him. As they made it out of the woods, they came face to face with the owners of the voices. Two men stood there, a third doing something behind them. The shorter man grabbed the sleeve of the tallerone. "I told you I heard something, Shane. Do you believe me now?!"

The taller man, Shane, sighed. "Calm down, Ryan. It's just two dudes walking out of the woods."

"But one of them is limping!"

Sam shook his head and manuvered himself and Dean around them. "We don't have time for this." He muttered.

Dean groaned as he tried to put weight on his ankle. "Nope, it's gotta be broken for sure."

"Dean, could you not complain? I'll look at it in a second." He opened the passenger door of the Impala and lowered Dean down until he was sitting in the car.

Once that was done, he crouched and started feeling the ankle. "I'm no doctor, but it doesn't feel broken. Either way, Cas should probably look at it later."

Dean groaned again as he rotated in the seat, moving to face forward. Sam straightened up, only now noticing that the two men had followed them. He took a deep breath. "Can I help you?"

The shorter man, Ryan, laughed nervously. "We were wondering if we could do anything to help. It looks like your. . . It looks like he's hurt."

"He's my brother, and no, we don't need any help. Thank you." Sam turned to walk away but hesitated. Eventually, his curiosity got the better of him and he turned back around. "Actually, can I ask why you two were out here?"

Shane laughed. "We were ghost hunting."

Dean growled, Sam closed his door. "Ghost hunting?"

"Yeah, well, more like demon hunting but potato potato, you know?"

Sam gave a tight smile. "I don't really think it's the same thing-"

"I told you, Shane! Ghosts and demons aren't one and the same!"

"That's nice, Ryan."

Sam just now noticed the holster with the squirt gun resting on Ryan's hip. "Dare I ask, what's that?" He pointed to it.

"That's my holy water. Better safe than sorry with demons, you know?"

Sam almost laughed at that. As if these two, who were no better than the Ghostfacers, knew anything about demons. "Sure. We'll go with that."

Shane tilted his head. "You're acting as if you know more about demons, ghosts and all that nonsense than Ryan does."

Sam did laugh at that. "I don't know how much Ryan knows so I can't accurately say that, now can I?"

Dean banged on the window. "Come on! Let's go!" Was heard through the glass.

Sam smiled. "It was great talking with you two. I see a camera man packing up back there, am I right in assuming that you have your own show?"

"Not really. It's a YouTube thing. Even then, we don't even have our own channel yet."

"That's cool. What's the show called? I might watch it."

"Buzzfeed Unsolved." Ryan looked really happy that Sam said he might watch it.

"Cool. I'll be sure to check it out . . . As long as we don't appear in the episode."

"Oh, definitely not. We had just finished filming when you two came out of the woods. May I ask what you were doing in there?"

Sam looked around secretively before leaning in. "Same as you." He stage whispered. He pulled back, looking as if he just told a big secret.

"Did you see the Goatman?!" Ryan's look of excitement grew.

Sam shook his head, looking sad. "Unfortunately not. The most we got were a few scares and Dean twisting his ankle as he tripped over his own two feet." The window was hit again.

The pair talking to Sam laughed. "We should probably let you get going." Shane said.

Sam raised a hand in farewell before walking around the side of the car and getting into the driver's seat. He pulled out, once again waving to the men standing by their own car. Dean growled as he shifted his foot, moving to turn the radio up. The rest of the ride, the only noise came from the stereo.

When they got back to the bunker, Cas healed Dean's ankle. Sam grabbed his laptop and sat on the couch, browsing YouTube. "Hey, Dean!" He called.

Dean walked in and leaned against the doorway. "Yeah?"

"Those two guys we bumped into, Shane and Ryan, they actually have a pretty decent setup here."

"Where?"

"On YouTube. Their videos are good. They don't ever find anything, but they're entertaining."

"Really?" Dean wandered over and sat next to his brother.

They spent the rest of the afternoon watching Unsolved. The pair was entertaining, but not very practical. Either way, Sam kept up to date on them, if nothing else than for the laugh factor it provided.


	4. Sam, Ghost

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A Sam story this time. I got the idea from a prompt. I don't remember the exact wording of the prompt so am not going to try to tell you guys. I hope you enjoy it! Feel free to leave requests if you want me to write anything.

I haunt the college. It's not like I've had much of a choice, I can't leave this building. It seems that no one notices that I'm here. I don't know why, but ever since this one boy came to the school, I've been following after him as much as I can. There's just something about him that draws me. Luckily, most of his classes seem to be in this building, which is fine by me. One day, as I was following him, he stopped in his tracks. He turned around and looked me straight in the eye. I moved off to the side, thinking he was looking at someone behind him. His eyes followed me, keeping eye contact all the while. I tilted my head. ". . . Yes?" I queried tentatively.

"Why do you keep following me?"

"I don't know. Shouldn't you be going to class?"

He laughed. "This conversation's not over. We'll talk after my last class, alright?"

I shrugged. "I guess I don't have anything else to do."

He laughed again as he hurried off. I moved off to the side of the corridor before dissipating, reappearing in the atic of the building. I hung around there until the end of the school day.

The last bell sounded and I went down to the courtyard. Soon after, he came out the doors, his bag slung over one shoulder and his shaggy hair getting in his eyes. He raised one hand to shield his eyes from the sun, scanning the crowd. I moved over to him, appearing next to him. "Who you looking for?" I asked.

He startled. "You, actually."

I nodded, feeling awkward. "You wanted to talk to me about something?"

"Yeah, but not here. Follow me."

He set a quick pace with his long legs as he strode off around the back of the building. He sat on a bench, patting the space next to him. I took the hint and sat next to him. He turned to look at me, no hint of laughter in his eyes. "Why are you here?"

"What? I thought you wanted me to follow you?"

"That's not what I meant. Why are you still here after dying?"

"Oh! You want to know what my unfinished business was."

"Yes, that. Sorry, I haven't done this in a while."

I nodded. "I see. Some people just talk to ghosts on a daily basis."

"Its a bit more complicated than that but sure, that works for now."

"I guess we should start with a brief history of me. My name is Sadie Noel. I came here to study law."

"How did you die?"

"I was pushed down the stairs."

"That doesn't sound like it could kill you."

"It would if you hit your head every few steps and ended being rammed into the wall at the bottom."

"Yeah, okay, ouch. Do you know who pushed you?"

"Probably the girl my boyfriend was cheating on me with. I had found out about them eariler that afternoon when they were making out in the supply closet."

"That would do it for you. Do you have any idea where you are burried?"

"Why do you want to know that?"

"I can help you find rest. To do that, I have to salt and burn your body in order to help you move on to the afterlife."

"I don't even know your name, and you expect me to just tell you where I'm burried? No way!"

"Are you telling me that, in all this time that you've been following me, you haven't once heard my name?"

"I'm not great with names. You also don't talk to many people between classes. I don't sit in on your classes so I never heard your name called."

"That's fair. My name is Sam Winchester. I can help you move on, but I need to know where you're burried to do that."

I sighed. "It's a cemetery a little ways away from here. Near a small church tucked away on a back road."

"Alright then. All we have to do is go there, dig you up, salt and burn you, and you can move on to the void."

I laughed. "'The void'. Because that sounds _so_ comforting."

"I can't tell you that you're going to heaven. I don't want to say you're going to hell. I don't know what afterlife you believe in. So, I picked the next best thing. Sorry."

"No, no, it's fine. So, when can we do it?"

"I would need to borrow a shovel from the gardener's shed, but other than that we could do it anytime. Just let me know when you're ready."

"I'm ready now. I'm done with this existence and wanna move on."

"Alright then. Would you wait here while I get the shovel?"

"Sure." He nodded and walked off.

He came back a few minutes later with the shovel. I followed him to his car. He held the passenger door open for me, letting me slide in before he closed the door. I heard him put the shovel in the trunk before he got into the car. We drove to the convenience store, where he got some lighter fluid and a bag of salt. Once he had procured his items, he drove us over to the cemetery. I didn't bother to wait for him to open the door, just floated through it and wandered the graveyard, looking at some headstones as I went. I made my way over to my own headstone and looked at it. Sam came up behind me and stopped.

"You were so young." He murmered as he dropped the salt and lighter fluid off to the side.

"Twenty-three. I had just had my birthday a week before."

"I'm sorry."

He started digging, making small talk with me as he dug. Eventually, he hit the casket. He cleared it off and opened it up. I wasn't able to smell how bad my rotting corpse was but he obviously was as he gagged and pulled his shirt up to cover his nose.

"Well, that's me." I said, looking down at the body staring back at me with empty eye sockets.

Sam grabbed the lighter fluid and emptied the entire bottle into the grave, doing the same with the salt. I stepped forward, kissing him on the cheek. "I thank you, Sam Winchester." I whispered before stepping back and letting him toss the lit match into the hole. As my body burned, my spirit dissolved.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sam was doing research for a case. He came across an article that was posted soon after the one he needed for the case. Reading over it, the details seemed familiar to him but he couldn't place it. After a minute and rereading it, the puzzle pieces came together in his head.

"It can't be." He muttered to himself, opening a new tab and searching up the incident.

Dean walked into the room. "Can't be what? Have you found what we're hunting?"

"No, this is something entirely different." Sam clicked open another article, speed reading it.

"Talk to me, Sammy."

"Alright, so, back when I was in college, I met someone."

"We talkin bout Jess?"

Sam shook his head. "Someone different. Anyways, I just found an article about her."

"Her, huh?"

"It wasn't like that, Dean. I barely knew her for a day."

"You wanna tell me about it?"

"She was a ghost. But not a vengeful one. I helped her move on, that's all."

"What's the article about then?"

"It reads, 'Brilliant Young Mind Snuffed Out Before Her Time'. It talks about her death. The article says that she commited suicide but I know for a fact that it was murder."

"How'd it happen?"

"A fall down the stairs. The article says that she threw herself down them after finding out that her boyfriend had been cheeting on her. She told me she was pushed by the girl he was using to cheat on her."

"Interesting."

"The case we're actually investing is close to where she was burried. Maybe . . ."

"Sure, Sam. We'll visit her grave while we're there."

Sam smiled and thanked his brother.

They entered the small graveyard after ganking their werewolf. Sam made a beeline for Sadie's grave in the back corner. He stood over the refilled-in hole, remembering digging her up and filling the hole back in. He thought about how she kissed his cheek and said her thanks before dissolving in a column of flames. Dean put a hand on his shoulder and he leaned into his brother's touch.

"Why are you so shaken up by this thing, Sammy?"

"She didn't deserve any of this. She was a good person, a sweet girl who just wanted to make the world a better place. I may have only known her for less than a day, but she was clearly not a vengeful spirit."

"Sometimes, bad things happen to good people. I'm sorry you had to deal with it, but that's just the way it goes. Now come on, let's go home."

Sam nodded. He reached out and let his hand rest on the headstone before turning away and walking out. He looked back at the gate. For one lingering second, he thought he saw Sadie standing there, then she was gone and the graveyard was empty once more.


	5. Dean, Thoughts

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A drabble I wrote in the middle of the night.

Sam and Dean checked into another hotel room. They were somewhere in the middle of the country, too tired to remember where. The room was nondescript, nothing special when you had seen as many as they had. Dean unloaded some of his weapons from his duffle bag while Sam fell onto one of the beds and started snoring, asleep before he even hit the pillow. Dean left one gun under his pillow, leaving a knife on Sam's side table. 

He pulled off his brother's shoes, leaving them by the end of the bed. He left his own at the end of his own bed. He was dead tired and ready to hit the sack too, but tried to stay awake long enough to take care of Sam and make sure the room was safe. A hunter can never be too safe, he thought as he swept the room for hex bags. Finally, he sat on the edge of his bed. He savored the silence of the room, only broken by the soft sounds of his brother's breathing.

Looking over, he stared at him. In this life, he never knew when the time would come that he would speak Sam's name or see his face for the last time. It had almost happened multiple times. One day, however, he knew that they would run out of ways to bring each other back, or one of them would not want to be brought back. He knew that one day he would want to stay dead, even if it meant an eternity in hell. There would come a time that he would grow weary of the world and be done with it. He'd already come close to it multiple times already.

He laid back, eyes tracing invisible patterns in the ceiling as his thoughts wandered over the years he's had with his brother. Eventually, he fell asleep and had a peaceful rest, something that hadn't happened in a while.


	6. Winchesters, Cleo Sparrow (part I)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A crossover between Supernatural and the Kane Chronicles. Part two will be up whenever I finish it. The idea for this was based off of the prompt "Imagine being an expert in the supernatural and constantly confusing Sam and Dean when you say something they don't understand." The prompt will come into a more full effect in the next part.

Cleo ran down the slope, trying to catch up before her prey got away. She burst out of the woods and onto the road, the bird taking the opportunity to soar away. She cursed and kicked at a rock, unwilling to risk losing one of her knives if she missed the throw. She started walking back to her car. As she walked, she heard the rumble of an engine. Confused, she looked behind her. This was one of those deserted back roads that was never used.

A black car came roaring down the road, slowing when the driver caught sight of her. Granted, her outfit was strange and might have been considered out of place in such a hot climate, but it wasn't weird enough to warrent a slower speed. She kept walking as the car pulled up next to her and drove slow enough to kep pace with her.

"Hey, need a ride?" The driver, a male, asked.

There was the sound of a smack, as if the passenger had hit the driver. "You can't just offer rides to random strangers you meet!" Another male said.

Cleo laughed. "Thanks for the concern from both of you but I can handle myself."

"Come on, lady, we're out in the middle of nowhere. Are you sure you don't need a ride?" The driver cajoled.

"I'm fine. My car is just ahead. At this pace, you'll see it in a few minutes."

"Alright then. Have a nice day." The driver rolled his window back up and sped off.

Sure enough, her car was just around the bend. What she hadn't anticipated was the other car being stopped beside hers. The driver had gotten out and was leaning against his door. She walked up to him. "Did you want something?"

"Yeah. What's a person doing in the back woods of a random spot in the countryside, no one else around and packing a few knives? What could a person possibly be doing by themselves?"

Cleo laughed. "What are you failing to insinuate?"

The passenger got out of the car and leaned against his side, resting his forearms on the top of the car. "He's asking if you're a hunter like us."

She nodded, serious in an instant. "Probably not exactly like you two, but a hunter none the less."

The driver nodded in return. "Can I have your name?"

"It's Cleo. Cleo Sparrow."

"I'm Dean, this is my brother Sam-"

"Let me guess, Winchester?"

"Yeah. You heard of us?"

"The ruthless, cutthroat, codependent brothers? Who hasn't in the community. I'd have had to be living under a rock to not hear about you two."

Sam spoke up from the other side of the car. "May I ask why you are dressed like that?"

Cleo looked down at herself as if she had forgotten what she was wearing. It was a simple black tanktop with leggings, normal black tennis shoes to match. A canvas bag was slung over her shoulder containing tools of her trade. "I don't see what's wrong with what I'm wearing?"

"Most hunters dress in layers, easier to adapt to climates as well as some protection against attacks. Also, most don't choose to wear all black in the middle of a hot summer day. Coupled with the fact that you have tennis shoes rather than the boots most choose, your outfit is definitely strange for a hunter."

"You've got good eyes. Yes, I'm not dressed like the typical hunter. The reason for that is simple: I'm not a typical hunter. The . . . particulars of my trade cause me to dress differently. As for the layers problem, I had an outer layer of flannel that got a bit too messy. It's still in my bag if you want a look." She reached into her bag and started pulling out a piece of clothing that, at one point, was a checkered blue and white but was now more red than anything else.

"That's fine. We don't need to see that." Dean spoke quickly, before she ahd managed to take the whole shirt out. 

Cleo shrugged and put it back. "What you two out here doin'? You chasin' something or just on vacation?"

"We don't really know what we're hunting at the moment." Sam said. "We know some of the particulars of the attacks, but nothing about the actual creature."

"What are you hunting?" Dean shot the question at her like a rubber band.

"I can't tell."

"I really don't like people who don't tell the truth when they can." He scowled.

Cleo tilted her head in exasperation. "Look, Winchester, I would tell you if I could. However, I only caught a glimpse of it myself before it fled."

"Then why is the shirt soaked?"

"I managed to lodge a knife in it before it got away. The blood belongs to it, not me."

"Cool." Sam nodded. "Maybe we can pool resources."

"Sure. Just let me get cleaned up at my hotel. We can either swap room numbers, or we can meet at another place. It would probably be easier for me to just go to your room. One person moving things rather than two."

Sam gave her the hotel name and room number. Turned out, they were in the same hotel, same floor even. The two men climbed back into their car and sped off. Cleo threw her bloody shirt into the backseat of her car before sitting in the driver seat. She picked up the journal sitting next to her, writing down the encounter with the creature as well as the one with the Winchesters.

Once that was done, she pulled on a leather cord hung around her neck and pulled out an [amulet](https://cdn.shopify.com/s/files/1/0005/8592/4674/products/celtic-cat-on-triquetra-leather-cord-celtic-necklace-ancient-treasures-viking-norse-mythology-ancient-egypt-thor-odin-mjolnir-celtic-3584496140354_900x.jpg?v=1549718376): a cat lounging on a Celtic knot. She clasped the amulet in both hands. "My lady," she murmered, "I hope you can hear me well enough. I know this isn't your symbol but it's close to it and is still a symbol of you. Please, speak to me and give me your wishes."

Lifting her head, she looked around. Finding nothing, she started the car and drove off, thoughts of her goddess swirling in her head.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cleo is my OC from the Kane Chronicles universe. She is a magician following the path of Bast, hence the amulet. [Fun fact, I have the exact same amulet like that which is why it's that particular style.] She will not have any romantic situations with any of the boys (Dean, Sam, or Castiel) unless you guys might want to see her in that position.   
> As always, feel free to request anything! Have a great day!


	7. Winchesters, Cleo Sparrow part II

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Part two, taking place mainly within the Kane mansion. I hope you guys enjoy this. Shout out to all the fans of the Kane Chronicles.

Cleo felt much more human after she showered. She gathered her books and laptop, putting them all into her canvas bag. Along with that, she put in the tools of her trade: a lump of wax, a wooden stylus, a palette with three dents for ink, a bottle of red ink, a bottle of black ink, a bottle of gold ink, a thick roll of papyrus, several lengths of twine, a curved wand that resembled a boomerang with hieroglyphics, a short wooden rod that could extend to the size of a staff at her will, and a small ebony cat statue. With her bag packed with the essentials, she left her room and headed down the hall to the Winchester' room.

She knocked. The sound of scrambling could be heard before feet hit the floor and made their way over to the door. It was opened to reveal the taller one, Sam, in a tee-shirt and shorts, comfortable clothes. Cleo looked up at him expectantly. "Are you going to let me in or do I have to stand awkwardly in the hallway?"

He moved out of the way. "Come on in."  
She entered and immediately scanned the room. One bed was littered with books, some placed on the other for more room. The elder brother was nowhere in sight. Cleo nodded. "So, where do you want me?"

"Uhhh, you can either set up at the desk or take over the other bed." Sam made his way over and carefully eased into the small, empty spot on the book covered bed.

Cleo opened her bag and laid out her books and scrolls onto the empty bed, Sam moving the few books that were already there. She sat Indian style at the headboard, taking out her phone. "Do you mind if I play some background music? It helps me think."

Sam shook his head, not looking up from the book he was looking at. Cleo found her "Research" playlist and played that. The instrumental sounds of classical music filled the air. She turned the volume down to low and started flipping through her books.

She and Sam spent about an hour like that, listening to music as they discussed what she had chased in the woods and what it could possibly be. They had narrowed it down to two or three things by the time that Dean came back. He entered the room carrying bags of food from the local fastfood place.

"I've got the grub. You got the monster?" He asked as he pushed the door shut with his foot.

Sam shook his head. "Almost. Did you bring anything for Cleo?"

Dean looked up from the food for the first time. "Oh, she's here. Sorry."

"Yeah," Cleo muttered, "I'm here." She kept chewing on the end of a pen as she looked over two different books.

"Sorry, I didn't know what you would want."

"Which is man code for 'I forgot you'. That's fine, I didn't know you were going to get anything. Sam, would you be a dear and pass me the scroll at the bottom of the bed?" She held her hand out for it, using the other hand to switch songs.

Sam moved away from the food bags and grabbed the item in question. He opened it a little bit as he brought it over. "Is this real?"

"Of course it it. It's also probably older than this nation so if you could be careful with it I'd be much obliged."

"Is this from Egypt? It's in hieroglyphics."

"Not hieroglyphics, demotic. Younger by about a thousand years or so."

"I'm sorry, did you just say demonic?" Dean paused in his food to ask.

"Close. I said _demotic_ which is a combination of hieroglyphics and Greek, used in the Cleopatra era of Egypt."

"Okay then." He turned around and went back to his meal.

Cleo checked the scroll against the books she was currnetly perusing. "Got it."

"Really? What are we up against?" Sam moved over to look over her shoulder.

"A bennu bird."

"I'm sorry, a what?" Dean chimed in.

"Really, do you two know nothing about anything mythological? It might not be one of the more known creatures but you would think someone would have taught you at least a crash course on Egyptian creatures."

"Sorry, Princess, if we don't have the same knowledge you do. Most of our training comes from books or learn as you go."

"Typical." Cleo sighed in exasperation. "A bennu bird is the equivalent of an Egyptian phoenix."

"Okay then. If it's anything like the regular phoenix, we should have no problem taking it down." Dean sounded overconfident.

Cleo ignored him and kept talking. "Herodotus, a Greek historian of the fifth century BC, says that the people at Heliopolis described the phoenix to him. They told him that it's lifespan was five hundred years. Once it died, it would be reborn, building a funerary egg out of myrrh for the paternal corpse. It would carry the corpse in the egg to the temple of the Sun at Heliopolis. He says the phoenix looks like an eagle with red and gold plumage, colors similar to the sun. It can't be harmed by normal iron or salt. It needs to be killed by . . . You've got to be kidding me." She stopped talking and started flipping through her books.

Sam and Dean shared a look before Dean spoke. "What's wrong?"

"I'm trying to make sure that we can kill this bird rather than just injure it or make it reincarnate early." 

"So why the urgency?"

"I don't know how to explain it to you. This bird is extremely dangerous and hard to kill. I may have to call a friend on this one."

"Then do it. We'll be here."

"I'll go ahead and get myself something to eat while I'm out. Be back in a bit." She stacked her books and scrolls off to the side and left the hotel room, heading down to the lobby.

She drove through the fast food place, getting herself some chicken nuggets and fries. She headed to an empty park bench and pulled out her cellphone. She hit the first speed dial as she bit into a fry.

"Hullo?"

Cleo laughed. "The accent is almost gone, you do realize that, right?"

"Oh, shut it. What do you want, Cleo?"

"Alright, alright, calm down, Sadie. I need some advice."

"You need what now? I thought you knew everything . . . literally. What could you possibly need?"

Cleo explained the situation. "What do I do? Do I tell them the bad news, do I try to lead them on a false trail, do I just abandon them?"

"It's never a good idea to abandon anyone like that. They're going to find out sooner or later, it's better to just tell them."

"Yeah, I guess you're right. I just don't want to have to deal with this. You got any ingredients I can pop over and steal for this?"

"No, I don't think so. You're welcome to take a look."

"Thanks. I'll be over some time tonight. I'll try not to bother anyone."

"Good. Now, goodbye, Sparrow. Have a nice time hunting a phoenix. Better you than me."

"Thank you, Kane. Go to bed." She hung up and finished her fries, taking the nuggets back to the room with her.

Dean opened the door this time, Sam looking over the books Cleo had last looked at. "What was wrong?" Dean asked.

Cleo cracked her neck, stepping inside and sitting at the desk. "I have to make a potion and recite a spell."

"So, how hard is that? Do you know the spell? Do you have all the ingredients for the potion?"

"That's just it . . . Do you want the good or bad news first?"

Sam had stopped rumaging through the books to pay attention to the conversation and now chimed in. "The good then bad."

"The spell is in the scroll there." She nodded to said piece of literature.

"And the ingredients?" Dean asked.

" . . . I'll have to make a trip somewhere for those."

"Do we have time for that? What if the phoenix-"

"Bennu bird."

"-kills more people before then?"

"It'll be fine. The trip won't take me long. Besides, the bird sleeps at night. Even though it won't kill anyone tonight, I'd much rather have the parts I need now."

"Where are you going?"

She hesitated. Dean growled and took a step closer. "Where. Are. You. Going?"

She looked over at Sam. "Does he always try to intimidate first?"

"Pretty much. He's working on anger management."

She nodded before turning back to face the older brother. "I need to visit a friend. You can either come with, or let me go alone. It won't take longer than an hour. I could even do it tonight."

"You didn't answer the question."

"Didn't I? I said I was going to visit a friend. If you were going to visit a top secret lair that you didn't want civilians knowing about, would you tell them exactly where you were going?"

"We're not civilians."

"And I'm not a normal hunter, which you've been told already. Think of me as an elite hunter. To me, you are not a high enough level hunter to have access to this information and therefore will not be given it. Do you have anymore questions, Winchester?"

Sam stood and walked over. "I do. Why do you keep calling him by the last name?"

She shrugged. "Because I do. It's just something I do."  
"

Alright. I'll come."

"Sure. Dress in black and meet me on the curb in a few minutes." She walked over and grabbed her bag, slinging it over her shoulder before leaving the room.

She headed back to her own room and let herself in. Her books were still in the Winchesters' room so she would have to retrieve them at a later time. Right now, she tied her medium length black hair back into a low ponytail. Tightening her shoes, she thought over where she was.

She was already dressed in all black from earlier in the day so didn't need to change at all. She headed down and found Sam waiting on a bench close to the entrance of the hotel. She nodded at him and he got up, falling in step with her. They walked a few blocks down until they got to the local museum. Cleo looked at the map for the place.

"This will have to do," she muttered before setting off in the direction of the Egyptian exhibit.

"What will have to do?" Sam asked as he kept pace with her.

"Have you ever played any RPG video games, Sam?"

"Not really."

"Seen anyone play one?"

"Yeah, I saw a video once."

"Good. I can use an item to fast travel, like in a game. However, it has to be a specific type of item. We're going here to . . . use one."

"Alright, cool. Can you teach me how to do it?"

She shook her head. "Sorry, it's one of those things that you either can or can't do. Like rolling your Rs."

"Okay."

They kept walking in silence. Eventually, they made it to the Egyptian exhibit. Cleo looked over all the items they had there, passing over the clay statues and heading to the stone from an actual pyramid. She read the plaque. "This will do nicely. Will you keep watch for me?"

Sam nodded and turned his back to her. "How long is this going to take?"

"It's midnight with a full moon, it won't take long at all." She began to chant in Ancient Egyptian, almost immediately summoning a swirling vortex of sand.

"There it is, our ticket to the fast lane. You ready, kid?"

Sam turned around and the color drained from his face. "We have to go in there?"

"You know, you would think that you being a Winchester and a hunter would cause you to not be so startled by everything. Either way, this won't last long. You jump in first."

She gave him a small push that broke him out of his daze. Without hesitation, he jumped into the portal. Cleo jumped in after him. There was the familiar rollercoaster-stomach-dropping that felt so much like home by now then they were out and landing on a roof. Sam was losing his stomach contents over the side of the building already.

Cleo laughed. "You did well for your first time. Good job."

"FREEK!" Was heard from the other side of the roof.

"Hey, buddy!" Cleo called, not making a move to go over there.

Sam looked up after his stomach emptied and almost lost it again. Cleo laughed. "This here is Freak. You can probably tell just by looking at him but he's a griffin."

The creature sitting in a seemingly hastily put together shack had all the physical characteristics of a griffin, the back half of a lion and the front half of an eagle. The thing that stood out about this one is that his wings stood straight up on his back and were currently vibrating faster than a hummingbirds. 

Sam backed up just the slightest bit, coming to stand at Cleo's side. She looked at him. "You leave him alone, he leaves you alone. Come on." She headed to the stairs leading down. Sam's footsteps followed. Descending, she looked around the place. "Man, I haven't been here in a while. It's nice that it's still in one piece."

"What do you mean by that?"

"Super secret lair isn't that secret, gets attacked a lot. Usually by monsters, occasionally by people who hate the ones who live here. Either way, it's been through some things."

Sam nodded. "Cool. So, what are we looking for?"

"We're not looking for anything. We're not breaking and entering, we're visiting. It just so happens that everyone is asleep at this time and we want to keep them that way."

" _Mostly_ everyone is asleep." A voice sounded from the hallway.

Cleo turned around and came face to face with someone who shared her name. "There you are, Rio!"

Cleo the librarian stepped forward and gave her a hug. "It's nice to know you're still in one piece."

"You too." She turned to Sam. "Sam, this is Cleo form Rio. Cleo, this is Sam."

"Ahh! A no name! Good to know."

"Not a no name, just one that's not important."

"Cool, cool. What are you here for this time?"

Cleo scratched the back of her neck. "It's actually not a book or scroll this time. I need to raid Jaz's stash of ingredients."

"Potion ingredients? Are you sure you don't need any scrolls? Not even a refill on yours?"

"Not right now, thanks. Shouldn't you be in bed, you look exhausted."

She had bags under her eyes and was leaning on the wall for support. "Yeah, probably. Have fun on your latest adventure. Come back and tell me about it okay?"

"Okay, now go to bed."

Cleo from Rio nodded and stumbled off down the hall. Sam turned to look at the Cleo standing next to him. "Where to next, boss?"

"Just down the hall. This way." She led the way down the hall, easily opening the unlocked door to the infirmary. 

The potion cabinet was a different matter. Cleo turned to Sam. "One or two?"

"Of what?"

"One or two. Pick."

"Uhh, one I guess."

"Pick the lock it is." She set to work, grabbing a pair of lockpicks out of her pocket and carefully moving them into the keyhole.

She almost had the lock open when the light flicked on. "You do know I have wards in place right?" Another female voice spoke from the doorway.

Cleo cursed silently and stood up, sighing. "Hi, Jaz. I just needed a few things."

"Sure you did. What did you need?"

Cleo glanced at Sam. "How about you go explore for a bit? Don't touch anything that looks dangerous unless you know what it does."

He nodded and set off, moving out of the room. Jaz stepped aside as he passed her in the doorway.

She moved deeper into the room. "How are you doing? Any bumps, bruises, broken bones I should be worried about?"

Cleo moved aside and sat on of of the beds. "Not really. I have a bad crick in my neck from not sleeping last night. Got anything for that?"

Jaz laughed. "Is that what you came here for? A midnight massage?" Nevertheless, she still stepped over and worked the kink out her neck.

Cleo rolled it. "Much better, thank you. And, no, I didn't come just for the massage. I came for ingredients to a banishing spell."

"What creature, I'm sure I have most of them."

"A bennu bird. I already have the incantation, I just need a few more things."

"A bennu bird banishing, huh? You'll need a few griffin feathers, a grated cat claw, a liquid base, and a toad's eye. Am I missing anything?"

"Ummm, threee unicorn hairs?"

"Right! I always forget that."

Jaz grabbed the ingredients out of the cabinet, minues the feathers. "I'm sure Freak has dropped a few recently. The fresher ones work best for any potion. You want me to mix this for you?"

"No, it needs to be mixed within a certain time frame."

"Alright then." She handed off the vials of ingredients to Cleo, who put them in her bag.

"Now, off to find Sam." Cleo left the room, heading down the hallway. 

She didn't see him on that floor and no one was allowed in anyone else's room at night so she headed to the main area, thinking he might be there. Sure enough, Sam was standing at the base of the statue of Thoth, the Egyptian god of wisdom. 

"What ya doing there?" She asked, standing on the last step.

He turned around. "Just looking around. Who's that?" He pointed up at Thoth.

"Egyptian god of wisdom, Thoth."

"Toth?"

"Yeah, weird pronunciation. It's spelled T-H-O-T-H."

"Cool. So, we finished?"

"Yeah, let's get out of here." She headed back up the stairs, Sam in tow. Reaching the roof, she approached Freak's coop.

Sam put a hand on her arm. "Is that safe?"

"Freak? He's harmless. Unless you're a frozen turkey. I only need five feathers from the area around him. It'll only take a sec." Sure enough, she was done in a few seconds.

"So, how we gonna get back?" Sam looked to the other edge of the roof, where a stone sphinx sat.

"Not that way. It's still on cool down. We need to head to the local museum unless we want to borrow Freak."

"Nope, museum is good." Sam looked sick at just the thought of having to ride the griffin. Cleo laughed and led the way.


	8. Winchesters, Cleo Sparrow part III

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The final installation of the Bennu Bird trilogy.

They made it safely back the Winchesters' hotel room, Dean opening the door almost immediately and ushering them inside. "Did it go alright?"

Sam nodded. "I think so."

Cleo smiled, inclining her head just the slightest bit. "It went fine. I got everything I need for this. It's a simple thing to brew, it'll be done by morning."

"Can I assist you in any way?" Sam asked, his face lighting up with hope.

Cleo looked at Dean. "What do you say, care to spare your brother for a night?"

"Sure, go on."

"Good. The only bad part about this is that I need to be completely focused on what I'm doing. One wrong motion, one wrong word, even a stutter or hesitation, and the whole thing backfires onto me."

"So?" Dean asked.

"So, I need you two to distract the bennu bird while I do my thing."

"Good. We can do that."

The Winchesters spent a few more minutes discussing just how they were going to distract the bird while Cleo packed up her books and scrolls, making sure she had everything. Once that was done, they set off down the hallway. Cleo opened the door, holding it open for Sam.

"Alright, Winchester. Rules of the room: no touching anything I don't tell you to, you do exactly as I say, try not to ask too many questions. Got it?"

Sam nodded. "Yep. How can I help?"

Cleo moved over to the bed and put down her bag. "How good is your penmanship?"

"Its legible." Sam scratched the back of his neck.

"That'll do. I need you to copy the incantation for me." She pulled out a scrap of papyrus, her inks, the stylus, and the palate. Grabbing the scroll she needed, she opened it to the right spot. "I need you to copy from here to here in your best handwriting."

"Got it." He set to work on that.

Cleo moved away from the bed, rumaging through her bag as she set up shop on the dresser. She pulled out the ingredients and a scrap of paper. On the scrap was written the recipe for the potion. She sighed.

Sam looked up. "Something wrong?"

"I don't really have a large pot to stir over a fire. I'll have to make do with the microwave." She put on some music before getting to work, humming along to it as she grabbed a bowl from her suitcase and dropped the ingredients in. She used water from the tap to give it a bit more liquid before putting it in the microwave.

She moved over and sat next to Sam, looking over his writing. "Good, that'll do nicely. Thanks for that."  
He finished writing and handed the paper over. "Anything else?"

"Not really. I just have to wait for that to finish and cool before pouring it, then have to go over the spell a few times to memorize it."

"May I ask a few questions then?"

"Shoot."

"What did you do back at the museums?"

"I opened a portal."

"What are you going to do with this stuff?"

"I'm going to have to read the spell and throw the potion on the bennu bird after."

The timer went off and Cleo got up to take the mixture out. Sam asked more questions about her, the people they saw, and the place they went to while she dealt with that. She answered as many as she felt it was safe to, politely declining to answer many of them. It had already been pretty late when they started but it was almost five A.M. by the time the potion was done. Cleo kicked Sam out, telling him to get some sleep. She did the same, taking a cat nap for a few hours.

The next thing she knew, there was someone pounding on the door and two voices arguing. She dragged herself off the bed, taking a glance at the clock to see that it was almost eight. "Yes?" She answered the door, leaning on the edge of it.

"We're up and ready to hunt. When will you be?" Dean growled.

"Someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed. I'll be out in a few." She closed the door before he could respond, hurrying to get dressed. She grabbed some long boots and her bag, stuffing her things in the bag before grabbing a breakfast bar and getting out the door.

"About time." Dean grumbled as he led the way down to the lobby. They all piled into the Impala and were cruising down the road, heading for the last spot the bennu bird was seen. Cleo nodded her head along with the music, enjoying the ride.

All too soon, they arrived at the same place that Cleo saw the bird. She told Dean where to stop on the road and everyone climbed out. Cleo checked her bag for everything she needed for the spell and fight. She heard the sound of the trunk opening and a false panel being moved. Making her way over to the two Winchesters, Cleo saw the full extent of the hunters' arsenal.

"That's a lot of guns."

Dean looked up. "Don't tell me you don't have something similar in that large trunk of your car's."

She shook her head. "All that I need fits in this bag." That wasn't entirely a lie since it functioned as a Mary Poppins bag.

Dean's eye widened slightly. "I'm impressed. How do you do it?"

"Do what?"

"Store everything in it. Do you only use selective weapons, di you improvise whatever you need?"

"I'm more of a magician. I use spells and a staff but for the most part the tools of my trade in my bag."

Dean gave her a look of respect before closing the trunk. "Nice. So, why are we back here?"

"Bennu birds are territorial in an interesting way. They resemble pandas in the way that they will only eat from a specific area. The bennu bird will be almost forced to return here if it wishes to eat. It's more of a waiting game than anything else at this stage."

Dean nodded before sitting on the trunk. "We're in it for the long run."

Sam hopped up beside him but Cleo stepped off to the side. She pulled her wand out of her bag as well as a few things she had stored in the Duat. She used the piece of chalk to draw a protective circle around where she was standing before putting small statutes with the body of a man and fhe head of a falcon at the four compass points. Touching her wand to the circle, she chanted something. Halfway through, she was interrupted.

"What are you doing?" Sam's voice broke through her concentration.

"I'm creating a protective circle around myself in advance. I need both of you to keep the bennu busy, I can't rely on you to protect me as well. This circle is there to do that for you."

"Cool. I really like the stuff I've seen from you."

"Nice. I'd have to talk to my superiors, but maybe I can arrange a tour of the place from last night. If I do get the go ahead, the invitation goes to both of you as well as it becoming a safe haven if needed. You've shown promise so I might be able to teach you how to summon a portal that goes there."

"Thanks." He looked slightly awed by the offer and retreated back to sit next to his brother.

Cleo started the chant over and finished it. Once that was done, she took this time to sit in the middle and indulge in some meditation. Clearing all other thoughts from her mind, she prepared herself for battle. Feeling another consciousness at the edge of her own, she carefully opened herself to it.

"Cleo?" The female voice purred.

"My lady." Cleo felt a smile grow on her face as her hand went up to hold her amulet.

"Is there something the matter, my kitten?"

"Nothing is amiss, Lady Bast. I was simply preparing myself for a coming battle."

"Is there a way you need my help?" Cleo got the vision of a cat toying with a ball of yarn.

"It is a small bennu bird. I must recite a spell and throw a potion on the ground, there's not much of a way for you to help."

"Very well. Just remember, I'm only a thought away. Maybe one day you might become my Eye."

"That day is not this one, my lady."

Bast's consciousness receded from Cleo's mind just as Dean gave a shout and lept off the car. Cleo opened her eyes and stood up, pulling out the potion and the spell just as the Winchesters cranked their shotguns and fired at the bennu bird. She began her spell. Trusting the two men and the circle to keep her from harm, Cleo drowned out the noise of the battle and focused only on saying the spell. Easier in theory than fact but she got it done just as the bird managed to bite Dean's shoulder. The bite was deep and Dean cried out in pain before collapsing, passed out.

Cleo threw the potion at the ground, breaking the vial and allowing the liquid to escape. It turned to vapor as soon as it touched the pavement, rising up and engulfing the creature. She ran over to Sam, who was cradling his brother's head.

He looked up at her. "You can heal him, right?"

She nodded, looking up at the vapor covering and shrinking the bennu bird. The bird fell to the ground as a harmless statute. She picked it up and looked at it.

There were no words on it. Sighing in relief, she put her wand to the wound and spoke the divine word for 'heal'. Instantly, the wound stitched itself back together and disappeared, leaving smooth skin behind.

"Luckily, the jacket took most of the damage." She said as she stood up, putting the statue in her bag. "Thanks for the fun day or so, but I have to get this to someone." She walked back and picked up her Sons of Horus, the falcon headed statutes.

Sam scrambled after her. "Wait! How are you going to get back? What about teaching me how to do the portal thing?"

She stood up, the last statue still in hand. "I need to talk to someone to get their permission first. Both teaching you the spell and giving you the tour would be like giving you someone's phone number and telling you to go ahead and annoy them. I have to get their permission to give you those. Also, the place should only be used as a safe house, if you have no where else to go."

"And the ride back?"

"If you're willing to drive me back to the hotel, I'll accept the ride."

Dean groaned from behind Sam. "Ah, my shoulder."

"You will experience pain for another hour or so but it will be much less than what it would have been if i hadn't healed you. I'm sorry I'm not more powerful. It I was at full power, you would not have to be feeling any pain from the wound."

Dean stood and came beside his brother. "Pain's fine. Reminds me I'm still human."

Sam put a hand on his brother's arm. "We should head back."

"What happened to the bird?"

"I took care of it. "Cleo said as she made her way back to the car.

"Tell you later. For now, I'll drive us back to the hotel." Sam led Dean to the car.

They made it back to the hotel, Cleo and Dean going in to check out. Once that was done, she leaned into the car window. "Looks like this is where we part ways. I'll find a way to contact you if I get a response on the offer."

Sam and Dean shared a look before Sam wrote a few strings of numbers down and handed the sheet of paper to her. "These are our phone numbers. You should be able to reach us from one of those."

"Okay. Just call out the name 'Bast' if you need me for anything. I should be able to get there within the following twenty-four hours. If not, try again. I should pick up on the second ring if I didn't on the first."

"'Bast'?" Sam queried, a curious look on his face.

"Yep, it's what you're thinking of. Anyways, I'm off. See ya later, Winchesters." She stepped into her own car and sped off.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know if you want to see Cleo more. So far, I know that I'll use her if I find any platonic prompts that I like.


	9. Dean, Rings

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another Pinterest prompt! "You and your partner bought rings that let you feel each other's heartbeats. You couldn't bear to take yours off when they were bured,- it has just started beating again." Is the prompt. I was going to do it just for the fun of it, no particular fandom in mind. However, as I was writing it, I got to a part that my brain told me sounded perfect for Dean so here we are. This takes place at the beginning of season 4, with Dean having been dragged to hell by the hellhounds. I hope you enjoy! Leave a kudo if you did, it helps me know that people like what Is writing and it's not as bad as I think it is.

We had gotten rings that were specially designed to let us feel the others heartbeat. They worked perfectly, and were great. It was fun to feel his speed up at random times throughout the day, or for him to know that mine slowed down just by looking at him. He was my comfort zone, my happy place. He was the place I ran to when upset. He was the best husband anyone could ask for. I always knew what was going on with the hunt, whether he was fighting a monster, waiting, or in pain, all by how hard his heart was beating at any given time.

And now he was gone. Killed in a stupid car accident, or at least, that's what Sam told me. It was hard, to feel my own heart speeding up while at the same time feeling his stop. It was almost painful, the steady thrumming that had been a constant in my life for so many years, suddenly cut off at the whim of Fate.

I couldn't bear to take it off even after the funeral. He was burried with his. The continuous beating was missing on my finger, and it's absence was felt the most at random times: in the shower, with the water drumming down around me but the stillness against my finger; at the funeral while I'm in tears looking down at him but with no way to reach out to him, to hold him even one last time; grocery shopping; waking up to an empty bed and nothing; trying to hang out with Sam but being unable go face him.

Eventually, I gave up. My thoughts stopped trickling back to the rings. I moved on with my life somewhat and kept pushing forward with my job. I never forgot him and didn't stop grieving but acted as if I was fine. I stayed away from Sam for a year. The ring stayed silent the whole time, never once doing anything, never again to beat against me.

Until it did.

I was doing a menial task, laundry of all things, when I felt it. I wasn't sure if it was my imagination until it continued. It beat fast for a while, then it slowed down and kept up a steady pace. I rumaged through my contact books but couldn't find anyone in the hunter community. I didn't remember what happened to Bobby's number but I did remember that I had thrown Sam's out. Either way, he had probably changed it by then. 

I set off to see him at once. I got in the car and drove off to his grave. I hadn't been there since the funeral but now, with my heart beating faster than it had ever been and hope swelling in my chest, I went to it as fast as I physically could. I got there and made my way through the spikes that had sprung up. He wasn't there. There was a hole in the ground and, what I could see through it, the coffin we had put him in was broken. I turned on my heel and strode out of the place, back to my car.

I drove to Bobby's but he wasn't there. His truck was gone so I waited. I didn't know where Sam was so couldn't try to find him. I waited for a long time, just staring and trying to memorize the feeling of Dean's heart beating against my finger again. After a while, I knew that Bobby wasn't going to be back any time soon. I got out and left a note on his door, telling him to call me as soon as he got home and left my number.

I left and went back home, keeping my phone close to me. It didn't come that day, or even that night. It came the next morning, almost making me drop my milk. I ran over to the phone and picked it up.

"Hello? Bobby?"

"Ho, there. Calm down. Did you need anything?"

"Dean . . . His heart started beating again today. I just . . . I wanted to know if you had seen him."

"Not today. Sorry, sweatheart. I'll keep an eye out for him and tell you when he's shown up here."

I sighed in disappointment and release. "Thanks, Bobby. I owe you one."

"No, you don't. I'm doing what any decent human should. No more, no less." He hung up before I could respond.

It was another waiting game after that. I had to go one with my life as if nothing was wrong when all I wanted to do was call Bobby every five minutes to see if

Dean had contacted him.

He didn't call for three days. Three days of anxious worrying, of heart pounding each time I even think someone looks like Dean. It was almost torture. The call came in the middle of work but I paused to answer it. Bobby told me that Dean was there and fine. I almost cried in relief.

"How soon can I see him?" My voice betrayed my desperation.

Bobby laughed. "As soon as you can get over here."

I bolted out of the home office and was off. I got there in record time, barging in without so much as knocking on the door. I stopped in my tracks, almost making skid marks with how quickly I pulled the brakes on myself, as soon as I entered Bobby's living room.

There he was. A little worse for wear, a bit older in the eyes and the way he held himself, but it was Dean. I caught my breath, my heart racing a mile a minute. There he was, in the flesh, perfectly fine, and yet, I didn't move. He didn't seem to notice me yet, too busy talking to Bobby. 

It took me standing there for a minute or two before he saw me. When he did, his heart sped up until it was almost as fast as mine. I raced towards him, jumping into his arms at the last second. I nuzzled my head into his neck and just let him hold me. "I can't believe that you're here." I whispered to him.

He held me close, my legs wrapped around his waist. His arms tightened as he laid his head on my shoulder. "I missed you too." He murmered against my neck.

Bobby laughed. "I'll leave you two alone." I heard his footsteps move away but couldn't pay any attention to him as I was consumed with thoughts of Dean.

Dean stumbled back, his legs hitting the couch and going down until he was sitting with me in his lap. We stayed like that for as long as we could, just drinking in the feel of the other. Eventually, life had to resume and take its course, but for now, we had each other. That's all that matters at the end of the day anyways.


	10. Winchesters, Discord

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry.

Sam barged into Dean's room. "So, get this."

Dean groaned and rolled over. "Sam, it's three in the morning. What do you want?"

"Apparently, cartoon characters are running rampant across the nation and I don't know how to stop them. I've already asked the angels to look out for them but there's one that they've been having trouble with."

Dean sat up and ran a hand through his hair, mussing the already messy strands. "And what do you want us to do about it?"

"Go and stop it. Duh." Sam looked at his brother as if he were suddenly dumb.

"Is there anything we can do about it right now? Is the creature going to destroy the world or set off another apocalypse in the span of one night? No? Then I'm going back to sleep. I'll see you in the morning." With that, he promptly fell back onto the bed and to sleep.

Sam huffed and left the room but went to his own and tried to get some sleep. His dreams were haunted by Jess, something that hadn't happened in a while.

The next morning, Dean was up as bright and early as ever while Sam slept in. When he did come out of his room, he didn't look like he had slept much. "Woah, dude," Dean commented, "what happened to you?"

"Nightmares. Coffee?" The second word was given a hopeful tone and Dean just pointed at the machine, which was full. Sam smiled and staggered over to it, loading up a large mug with the caffeinated substance and creamer.

Dean sat at the kitchen table. "So, what were you rambling about last night?"

Sam took a long drag from his cup before speaking. "Cartoon characters loosed on the earth. I have no idead who did it or how to stop most of them. The angels have all but one taken care of."

"And that one would be which, exactly?"

Sam sighed. "Discord. The season two villain of the children's show _My Little Pony_."

"How do we get rid of it?"

"In the show, they used the Elements of Harmony and 'Teamwork' to Medusa him into a statue. However, as we don't have those, for obvious reasons, we'll have to make do with a song."

Dean leaned forward. "A song?" His tone of voice and facial expressions allowed his brother to know that he was extremely sceptical of this.

"According to some of the more reliable sources, I shudder at the words, there is a song, his theme song if you will, that acts as a sort of curse. The song has to be played in his presence for it to work but it supposedly banishes him to who knows where."

"We have to play a  _song_ to get rid of him? Do we have to _dance_ too?" Dean scoffed.

"Thankfully, no, we don't have to dance. You want me to call our most reliable source for all things magical?"

Dean sat back and slapped his thighs lightly before standing. "Yeah, sure. Give Cleo a call."

Sam lifted his cup in mock salute as Dean walked out. Afer finishing the coffee, he went back to his room, feeling refreshed. He grabbed the phone off his nightstand and dialed the number she gave them the last time they had seen her. "Hey, Cleo."

"Hey, Sam. You sound tired."

"Yeah, didn't sleep much."

"Sorry to hear that. What can I do you for?"

"I need some information. What do you know about a banishing spell disguised as a song?"

"Huh. It could work. Why, you planning on trying your hand at making one?"

"No, I need to use one."

"For what? That's a big undertaking, especially if the song is over the standard three minutes."

"It's only a little over three minutes. Anyways, theres a creature here that the only way we can get rid of it seems to be singing the song."

"That's a neat little pickle for sure. I don't think I have any advice to give you."

"Anything about the spell I should be worried about?"

"Yes. You show promise for the magic I practice but that magic comes within you unless you can use an item that stores power. I don't thinkI left any with you on my last visit, an oversight on my part. As a result of drawing the power from within, you will not only be drawing on yiur own energy, but the very essence of your soul. The energy is not as big of a deal, it'll be as if you just ran a marathon while lifting weights the entire time. Eat a large meal directly afterwards to gain back a lot of the energy you lost. As this is a standard timed song, you should be able to get this done before your magic reserves start tapping into your life force. If you're still alive after this, give me a call. I'll find time to hop over and give you a Magic 101 crash course."

"Thanks. I think that's all we needed so, I'll let you get back to whatever it was that you were doing before I called."

"No problem. Good luck."

Sam hung up and packed his bag, his computer having finally pinged where Discord was. He went and got Dean and soon they were in the Impala, on their way to the next state over. 

They arrived and found a hybrid creature already waiting for them. The creature's head was that of a goat with a doe's antler and some sort of twisted unicorn horn sprouting from its forehead, its body was indeterminable, simply a brown color, its left arm was the leg of a chicken while the right was that of a lion, it had a tail akin to a lizard's, one bat wing and one bird wing, a lizzard leg and a goat's leg. It would have been terrifying if it wasn't so comically animated looking. As it was, it looked only vaguely frightening.

Dean looked at the creature before giving Sam a less than pleased look. "Really? This is what we have to fight?"

Sam shrugged. "We take what we get." With that, he pulled up the song and rolled down the window. The beginning bars started and the creature just stood there, smiling.

"Oh, how drole." The creature, Discord, laughed.

Sam sat there in shock as the song played to completion with not so much as a twitch from

Discord. "Maybe . . . Maybe we have to sing it live, it can't just be recorded."

Dean glared at his brother. "You can't be serious!"

"Worth a shot. I doubt we're going to be able to find the 'stones of harmony' that were used to beat him in the show."

Dean growled out a curse. "Fine! Play the song again!"

" _You're_ going to sing it?!" Sam was incredulous.

"Yes! Just hurry up and play it! And keep the damn thing busy!"

Sam played the song again and got out, Dean doing the same. Dean started singing. "I'm not a fan of puppeteers but I have a nagging fear that someone else is pulling at the strings. Something terrible is going down, through the entire town, anarchy and all it brings. I can't sit idly, no I can't move at all." He tried to take a step forward but found that he couldn't move.   
Sam seemed to notice because he said, "It's at least doing something!"

Dean flipped him off as he continued the song. "I curse the name, the one behind it alllll! Discord! I'm howling at the moon, and sleeping in the middle of a summer afternoon. Discord! Whatever did we do to make you take our world away?"

The creature finally swivled his head and looked at Dean as he wrapped up the first chorus. "No," Discord hissed softly as he, too, was unable to move.

"Keep it up, Dean! I think it's working!" Sam shouted.

Dean ignored him and kept going, now staring straight into Discord's wonky eyes. "Discord! Are we your prey alone, or are we just a stepping stone for taking back the throne? Discord! We won't take it anymore, so take your tyrany away!" 

As Dean belted out those lyrics, stone started to form around Discord's feet.

Dean didn't bother with the techno/ autotune portion and waited for the actual singing to come back. "I'm fine with changing status quo but not in letting go, now the world is being torn apart. A terrible catastrophe played by a symphony, what a terrifying work of art. I can't sit idly, no I can't move at all."

The stone crept higher around Discord, latching onto his legs and encasing his tail.

"I curse the name, the one behind it alllll! Discord! I'm howling at the moon, and sleeping in the middle of a summer afternoon. Discord! Whatever did we do to make you take our world away?"

Discord was screaming now, a long and drawn out scream but a single word was the only utterance he produced. "Noooooooooooooo!"

"Discord! Are we your prey alone, or are we just a stepping stone for taking back the throne? Discord! We won't take it anymore, so take your tyrany away?"

Now the stone was halfway up his chest. Even as Dean watched, it crept higher and higher as the techno portion continued. It was up to his armpits as Discord raised his arms and shouted at the sky.

"Discord! I'm howling at the moon, and sleeping in the middle of a summer afternoon. Discord! Whatever did we do to make you take our world away? Discord! Are we your prey alone, or are we just a stepping stone for taking back the throne? Discord! We won't take it anymore, so take your tyrany away!"

The song closed out just as the stone encased Discord's head and silenced his screams. Dean sighed in relief. "Well, that's done."

Same laughed as he came to his brother's side. "I think that one takes the cake for weirdest hunt ever."

"It sure does. Let's go home."

Dean was able to move again as soon as the stone had fully enclosed Discord so they left the new statue there and went back to the bunker.


	11. Castiel, Bad Day

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another sporadic posting.

~~~~She ran to her room, slamming the door behind her. Flinging herself onto her bed, she indulged in the heavy crying that she knew she needed. Dean was banging on the door, pleading with her to let him in and to open the door, but she couldn't. She was barely able to draw breath between sobs, let alone actually talk to someone. She was able to get out a strangled, "Please, go away," before the heaving of her chest stole the rest of her breath.

Dean sighed, the banging stopping. "Fine. Just promise me you'll _talk_ to someone later, okay?"

She didn't answer, _couldn't_ answer. Her sobbing left no room for breathing and her tears obscured her vision.

"Alright. Just know that we're here for you." The sound of his retreating footsteps made its way through the door. 

It took her the better part of an hour to calm down and even when she did, it was by crying herself to sleep. 

Castiel used his teleportation to pop into the room, only to find her passed out, the sheets of the bed wet with her tears, tracks of salt left over on her face. He sighed and walked over, carefully sliding into cthe bed next to her and wrapping her in his arms. He let the sleeping girl bury her face in the crook of his neck, some of the salt and tears transfering to his skin. He wrapped his wings around her for good measure and just laid there, wishing he could fix emotional wounds as easily as he could physical ones.

She woke sometime later, still in his arms. She looked up into his face and startled a little in the dazed fogginess that always comes after sleep. "What are you doing here?" She queried.

"Dean said you had a bad day and needed someone to check up on you. So, here I am. You wanna talk about it?"

She shook her head and buried it in his chest. "Not really." Her voice was muffled by being pressed into something but still audible.

"Alright." He wrapped himself tighter around her, going so far as to sling a leg over one of hers.

They just sat there for a while, her soaking up comfort from him and him trying to ooze comfort as much as he could. He wished he could help with her problems but he wasn't all knowing.

Eventually, she pulled back. "I'm sorry."

"You wanna talk about it now?" His voice was gentle.

"Yeah. I didn't sleep well last night, didn't get to sleep until almost two, even then it was fitful sleeping. When I woke up at seven I couldn't get back to sleep so started my day but was in that mood where every little thing just pisses you off. Have you ever had one of those days?"

"I can't say that I have, sorry."

She sighed. "The day would have been fine except . . . "

"Except what? What made you cry so hard?"

"Sam started teasing me again. I know, it's stupid. But when every last thing gets on your nerves and someone does something they know annoys you, you tend to snap. For me, that meant yelling at him in a burst of anger that he didn't deserve and running off in a fit of tears. I left Sam stunned in the library and brushed past Dean." Even just talking about the incident made her tear up again.  
Castiel pulled her back into him, letting her rest her face on his sternum. "I'm sorry. Is there anything I can do to help?"

She snuggled closer, wrapping her arms tighter around him. "You're already doing it. Thank you." They stayed like that until she fell asleep again at which point, she slept for the whole night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had a day like that today only it wasn't someone teasing me. It was a working sibling that had a bad day and took it out on the rest of us when they came home. Anyways, I needed a vent and wrote this, mainly because I really need an angel hug. And really, don't we all sometimes? I hope you all had/have a better day than mine.


	12. Dean, The Child

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A writing prompt from Pinterest: This wasn't a little girl. This was something else. It might look and act like a little girl, but it sure as hell wasn't one. (Black Eyed Kid is the monster I went with.)

Sam and Dean had stopped for gas and food when she aproached them. She looked like a normal little girl, long black hair, pale skin. She was wearing sunglasses and a ragged, dirty dress, no shoes. Dean thought she was some sort of homeless girl. "Can I help you with something, kid. I don't got a lot of cash."

"Will you let me catch a ride?" Her inflection was nonexistent. She spoke in a monotone, her face never changing.

"Sorry, kid. Where we're going is no place for you. Go on, go back to mommy or daddy."

The child's face turned hateful as she stomped her foot. "No! I need to go with you!"

Dean was pissed off at that point. "The answer's still the same now scram." He detatched the pump from Baby and pushed past the kid, going to find Sam.

The child grabbed his arm in a grip too tight for her size. "Let. Me. Go. With. You." Her voice had turned menacing.

Dean tried to pull away but her grip was locked on tight. "No. What are you?"

She reached up and took off her glasses. Her eyes were the pitch black of a demon.

"Something you can't even imagine."

"A demon?" He asked incredulously.

She just laughed. "No. Worse."

He scanned her and found puncture wounds on her neck. "Some kind of demonic vampire? Is that it?"

"Sure, we'll go with that."

At that point, San came out of the store with the food. "Dean! Everything alright?" He jogged over to his brother.

"No! It's not alright. Get her off me!" He yanked his shoulder, trying to get her to break her grip.

Sam grabbed her arm and ripped it off of Dean, prying each finger off his arm. They then both slid in the open door and sped off before she was able to follow them inside.

A few miles down the road, Sam looked back. "No sign of her. What was that thing?"

Dean shook his head. "I don't know. I only know that **that was not a little girl. It may have looked it, but it wasn't.** " His foot subconsciously pressed a bit harder on the gas pedal, helping them speed away from that gas station.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for how short it is.


	13. Cas, Sleep

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the shorter stuff lately.  
> This thing has no prompt, it's just what I really wish would happen to me at the moment, the person sitting in front of a screen uploading this piece of trash at one A.M. because I'm still awake and have no impulse control. I'm gonna try to go get some sleep, peace out.

Cleo wandered the bunker, all the lights off. The boys were home, but it was the middle of the night and they were asleep. She wished she could say the same for herself. She was wide awake, even as she came face to face with the kitchen clock, its face proudly proclaiming the time: 12:39.

"Great," she grumbled to herself.

She didn't want to turn on any lights in case the boys were light sleepers and woke, but also didn't want to trip over anything. Thankfully, her night vision was pretty good so she was able to navigate the rooms with little trouble. Even with that, she still hit her hip against the table's corner.

"That's gonna leave a mark." A voice sounded from behind her.

Spinning around, she faced the only other person who was still awake in the whole building: Castiel. "Hey."

He laughed. "Hi. What are you doing up at this time?

"I'm an insomniac. I normally don't sleep very well at night. I catch enough cat naps to make it up throughout the day."

"That still has to take a toll on you, doesn't it?" He took a few steps forward.

"Yeah, I guess it does. It's fine, though, I like the quiet of the night."

He tilted his head to the side. "You . . . like it? How can you genuinely enjoy being alone for so long?"

She laughed, moving though a doorway into the living room, the angel trailing behind her. "I like how quiet it is, as I've already said. I also like the dark and the cooler night temperatures, the way they combine to wrap me up in a blanket of comfort, biting at my exposed bits just enough to remind me I'm alive. It's calming to see the environments that are usually so alive and active in the day be totally silent in the night. It's almost eerie, you know?" She paused for a deep breath. "I like the cold biting at my lungs. I like the stillness and the solitariness of each individual room. I just . . . I like the world at night. Is there something wrong with that?"

Castiel shook his head. "No, there's nothing wrong with that. There is, however, something wrong with not being able to get the needed hours of sleep."

"Hey! A human's required hours of sleep vary from six to twelve hours. I average five during the night and an extra hour throughout the day. I take care of myself, okay."

He put his hands up. "Okay, sure."

She nodded and moved over to sit on the middle couch cushion, pulling a pillow onto her lap and planting on foot next to her, the other curled up under her.

She patted the seat next to her. "Come sit."

He sat next to her and continued asking her questions about herself, what kind of monsters she'd hunted, what her favorite animal was, what her favorite season is, and many other questions, going as deep as asking what she thought about the current standings of the world. She gave honest answers and demanded the same from him. They talked late into the night, Cleo eventually falling asleep.

Castiel shifted her head from the harsh position on the back of the couch to his chest, allowing her neck to rest at a better angle. He stayed there, just watching over her in her sleep, tracing up and down her arm to the tempo of her chest rising and falling. He watched over her the whole night, fending off nightmares and fulfilling a minor portion of his favorite angel role, the Guardian Angel.


	14. Hugs

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was thinking about the different ways TFW hugs and couldn't help but put it down.

Cas hugs you like you're the most fragile thing in the world. Unless you just came back from a hunt that he wasn't sure you would make it out alive. Then he hugs you as if the world is ending and you're the only person he has left. He pulls you close and wraps his arms (and his wings) around you in a way as if he's trying to shelter you from the horrors of the world. He holds on as if he's the one drowning in sorrow but doesn't pull away until you do.

Dean hugs as if he never wants to ever let go. He grips you tight, sometimes taking a fistful of your shirt, and pulls you in as close as he can, almost as of he's trying to absorb any bad feelings that you have. It's as if he wants to take all your pain and put it on himself so you don't have to feel it. He squeezes you so tight, you can feel your ribs and spine pop. Sometimes, he picks you up, lifting your feet off the ground. But that's just on the occasions that it's a good news hug.

Sam hugs you as if he just got the best news ever, or the worst news in history. He hugs as if it's the first meeting, or the last goodbye. He holds on tight, as if he's trying to commit the moment to memory. He pulls you in and cradles you in his arms, as if he's afraid of breaking you. Sometimes, it's as if he's falling apart. That's when he gives a bone crushing hug, as if you're the only thing keeping him in one piece. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I want to apologize for the sporadic updates on this. It's not that I have writer's block (I have quite the list of things I want to do and you guys can always give me suggestions), I've just started college a few weeks ago and haven't had time for my littoe introvert self to get a breath in, let alone time to write for fun. However, writing does help with my anxiety so I might try to knock out some of those prompts and ideas. Any suggestions would be much appreciated. Thanks for the patience.


	15. Dean, Hunter now Hunted

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Based off the prompts "I wasn't always the one being hunted . . ." and "A note saying 'get out now, while you still can.'"

I first saw him walking on the side of the road. I remember him because he was strange. He didn't do anything as I drove past. He didn't stick a thumb out, move to the side to let me pass, he didn't even look back to see who or what was coming at him. I drove past, only to find him in the diner I work at two days later. This time, I was able to get a better look at him. There was a ruggedness about him that bespoke of spending days in the wilderness or at least on the road. He had a bit more than scruff on him but not enough to call it a beard just yet. He only ordered coffee and a slice of pie. He kept looking around, almost like he was being followed.

Once my shift was over, I sat down across from him, a pit of anxiety settling in my gut. "So, what brings you around to these parts?" I queried.

He squinted at me but didn't say anything.

"Man of few words. I can appreciate that. You look like someone's who's recently fallen on hard times but you seem comfortable enough to keep having the coffee refilled, despite the fact that it's not free. There's a story there somewhere and I intend to get to the bottom of it."

"Look, could you just leave me alone?" He spoke at last.

"Sorry, can't. Curiosity killed the cat and all that. You won't get away with playing the brooding batman thing with me. Spill the story."

He sighed and took a long pull from his coffee cup. When he put it down, he grabbed a pen out of his pocket and started scribbling on a napkin. This didn't put me off in the slightest as I figured it was a tactic to get me to leave him alone. How wrong I was.

He lifted his hand to signal to the waitress serving him for the check. "You're not getting away that easy." I muttered. I was still curious about this strange man from the road.

She came over and gave him the check, he paid in cash. As he was standing to leave, he dropped the napkin in my lap. Unfolding it, I came face to face with the words "get out now, while you still can. I'm sorry".

He glanced back at me as he was leaving. I wanted to chase after him and ask what he meant by the cryptic note, but I was rooted to my seat.

I saw him again and again for the next two weeks doing the same thing over and over again. Coffee, pie, shifty eye, talk, napkin. By the end of the next week, he was at least exchanging full sentences with me. I saw that as a big improvement. 

Then, the other shoe dropped. Some . . . thing . . . came into town. This time, his note was different. It read, "I wasn't always the one being hunted." I confronted him outside the diner after that, demanding to know what he meant by these. He was wrestling with what seemed to be a vampire. He had a machete in one hand and a jawbone-looking-thing in the other. He used the machete to savagely cut off the vampire's head. 

I screamed and backed up. He turned to face me, his face contorted in what seemed to be pain. "No. I never meant for you to get involved." He seemed to size me up for a minute, then sighed. "I guess I have to bring you with me now." He grabbed my wrist and started walking toward my car.

"For pete's sake, I don't even know your name!" I shouted. "How do you expect me to trust you just like that?! What was that thing? What do the notes mean?"

He grabbed my keys out of my hand and unlocked the car. "I'll answer your questions in due time. For now, you need to get in and be quiet."

For some reason, I obeyed. I got in the car and sat there, not doing anything, hands in my lap. It confounded me as to why I was cooperating so nicely but then it dawned on me that I must trust him, even if it is just the slightest bit. He got in the driver's seat and we were off, to only he knew where.

He looked at me. "Are you dumb or just obedient?"

"Is scared an option? How about curious?"

He chuckled. "Okay, so you've got some spunk in ya."

"Why are you doing this? Where are we going? Who even are you?"

He held up one hand, the other still on the wheel of the dark blue car. "I'm taking you with me to protect you. That vamp at the diner was out for your blood. We are going to a secluded place outside of town where we can talk in private. My name is Dean Winchester, nice to meet you." 

The hand was extended toward me. I took it and tried to shake it with as firm a grip as I could muster. "Okay, Dean. Why did I get dragged into all of this? And what is all of this?"

"I didn't mean to drag you into this, that was my fault. I said the wrong thing at the wrong time and next thing I knew, you're being used as a bargaining chip against me and there's a price out for your head. What this is, is a year long vamp hunt. I've tracked the nest down and killed the members one by one. Now, I'm at the last few."

"I'm still trying to wrap my brain around the whole, vampires exist. Now you're telling me that they travel in packs?"

"Hell no. Werewolves travel in packs. Vamps live in nests. They tend not to travel unless they've been outed in their hometown. Makes them a bit easier to exterminate, if you ask me."

"More than vampires are real?! Next you'll be telling me that ghosts are real too."

He didn't respond, just tilted his head to the side and made a face.

"Don't tell me they're actually real too?!"

"Sorry. Yeah. Everything that goes bump in the night, anything that has ever been nightmare fuel is real. Almost everything that's dream fuel is real too, if that's any consolation."

"Not much but thanks."

The rest of the ride was in silence. We got to a clearing in the trees that line the road. Dean pulled the car through them and down a dirt path to a ramshackle cabin. "It's not much but it's better than a crappy hotel room." He said as he opened my door for me.

We entered the cabin, which was filled with different types of weapons. There were twenty different guns alone, same and a half of knives and swords. He put the jawbone-looking-thing on a table before taking the still slightly bloody machete to the sink and washing it off. The cabin was one kitchen-living room combo, and three doors leading off of it. I assumed two were bedrooms and the third was the bathroom. I sat down in one of the straight backed chairs at the kitchen table, where a lot of the weapons were laid out.

"You know you can hurt someone with all of this stuff just laying around, right?"

"Well, it's not like I was planning on inviting any guests over, alright?" He growled back as he scrubbed at a bit of dried blood on the blade. I had to look away before I was sick.

We stayed there for a while longer. Eventually, I forgot about the notes and asking him about them. Dean went out that night, telling me to stay in the cabin. He left on foot, saying he was going to go pick up his car from the diner parking lot. I took that as a chance to snoop a bit. The first door I came to led to a Spartanly furnished bedroom. A dufflebag was on the end of the bed so I assumed it was Dean's. The middle door was the full, and only, bath. The third door was another bedroom, this one with no indications of it being claimed or not.

I lay down on it, finally getting the chance to process what I just went through. When it all set in that I had come close to dying today and that Dean saved me, I cried myself to sleep.

I woke up to the front door being slammed closed. Dean was back. Something rustled as I sat up; looking in my pocket, I found the notes Dean had left over the course of the week I had known him at the diner. I made my way into th kitchen to find him cooking. "You didn't have to do that, I could have."

He smiled. "I like to. It keeps me grounded."

I nodded and moved to sit down at the table, leaning against the back of the chair. "Why did you leave me so many notes during the week?"

He looked up. "That came out of left field. What do you mean?"

"Well, you left me a note written on a napkin every time you left the diner for a week straight. I'm just trying ro figure out what they mean."

"Most of them are trash by now, I imagine."

"Most of them say "get out now, while you still can. I'm sorry". The only one that's different is the last one that says, "I wasn't always the one being hunted." I'm just curious to see what they mean."

"Most of those refer to the fact that you were being hunted by the vampires. The last one . . . I'm not drunk enough for the last one."

"So, it was your way of opening up to me without truly doing it? And now you need alcohol for the rest of it?"

He seemed to think it over for a bit. "Yep. Sounds about right."

He did start drinking after dinner that night. Apparently, he was still too sober for that. 

He kept me holed up in the cabin for another week while he dealt with the vampire nest's last surviving members. Finally, he came back and told me that the last of the nest was dead. That night, we drank the rest of the beer he had in the fridge.

He looked at me glassy eyed. I knew that he was drunk enough now to talk about what that last message had said about being hunted but at this point I was almost too scared to want to know. 

"I owe you an explanation." He started. "I wasn't being particularly honest when we first talked about what I do. You see, the nest was kind of . . . Hunting me."

"What, like a deadly game of tag?" I asked, just as drunk as he was.

He chuckled. "No, worse. See, I'm a hunter. Or, used to be one. Don't bother asking what a hunter is, you probably won't meet another one. I hunted down and ganked two vamps who I thought were rouges and had split off from a nest. I hadn't known until later that they were actually scouts looking for a new nesting area. Turns out, the nest of vamps was ready to pack up and move on and they didn't take to kindly to me butting in. So, the hunter became the hunted. I ran for a while, but eventually stumbled across the nest's hometown. And the rest you know."

I nodded. It made me understand a bit more what was going on. "So, now that you've accomplished your mission, what's next for you?"

"I'm going home. My brother's expecting me back any day now."

"Alright then." I stood up and stumbled my way to the entrance of my room. "I'm turning in for the night." I closed the door behind me and collapsed on the bed, falling alseep instantaneously.

He was gone when I woke up. His bag wasn't in his room, all the dishes had been cleaned and put away, his car wasn't even in the drive anymore. The only evidence left that he was here was a note on the counter that said he ahd headed out early. Dean Winchester was in the wind and I never saw him again.


End file.
